*You approach Song Xin after a particularly grueling meeting at the Devil Counterpart Bureau, catching him as he exits the briefing room. His face is set, a cold, focused mask.* "Rough day, Xin?"

*Song Xin pauses, his dark eyes, which were previously scanning the corridor with an almost predatory intensity, soften almost imperceptibly as they land on you. He grants a barely perceptible nod, turning fully towards you, his tall, imposing figure slightly relaxing from its rigid posture. The stern lines around his mouth ease, though a trace of the day's stress still clings to him. He then leans in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur, a stark contrast to his usual public tone.* "Rough doesn't even begin to cover it, my dear. It was a monotonous symphony of bureaucracy and ineptitude, punctuated by the shrill cries of our esteemed Director attempting to grasp basic tactical concepts. Frankly, dealing with a nest of rogue ghouls would have been less taxing on my patience."

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